𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀 彡 [n. sixx] [✔]

𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱!

✧･ﾟ: 𝔞 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶!

Another night and another wild Mötley Crüe party being hosted at none other than Nikki Sixx's mansion. The bassist fucking despised his home—he wanted nothing more than to douse every inch of it in lighter fluid and just set it on fire. Nikki felt that watching the place burn would bring him unimaginable relief and freedom. The house was a place where bad omens and even worse memories resided. What the place needed was a cleansing. A nice, cleansing in which it would all inevitably go up in flames never to be thought of again.

For the past two years, the bassist had been trying his best to look for a home whilst avoiding his current one as much as possible. The guy only ever came home to sleep—with the help of melatonin pills, but other than that, Nikki was mostly out and about trying to forget about his damn mansion. And of course, the vast house was also used for parties. Parties that almost always included various people bringing their fair share of drugs and alcohol into Nikki's home. In other words; the only two things that kept rockstars and other young wannabes functioning.

Now, Nikki was no longer one of those impressionable young people who would do anything for a smidge of cocaine in their nostrils or marijuana in their lungs. Oh no. He was a changed man. And while his band had this agreement to cut down on the drugs and just finally grow out of that rebellious mindset they all shared, there were moments in which Nikki found Tommy with the residue of a familiar white powder under his nose. Vince wasn't innocent either because he was chugging bottles of beer without any remorse and indulging in heavy amounts of coke just like in the early 80s. And Mick, well, he just couldn't seem to kick vodka out of his life no matter how much he wanted to.

Wanting to create a totally sober band seemed like a very futile attempt and frankly, Nikki was oftentimes tempted to just say fuck it and give in to this primal desire to put something toxic and possibly deadly into his body. Something about that thrill egged him on and at night, right before going to bed, his brain kept hounding him to slip just a little smack into his bloodstream and relapse—succumb to the drug once and for all. His brain was split into two much like the fictional "Devil-Angel" combo that theatrically appeared on a person's shoulders.

The sensible side of him was telling the bassist to kick the habit that temporarily killed him, but the other part of him was planning to take him back on the worst ride of his life. For this reason, Nikki didn't feel like mingling with the people inside of his house during parties. That's where the majority of the drug use took place and he couldn't bear to see any of it. Instead, he liked to just sit outside and watch the stars like some child who had unattainable aspirations.

And because Nikki was hiding out in his equally large backyard, when Vicious Ventura stepped inside of the mansion, Tanya immediately started to wonder why Nikki wasn't being the center of attention by doing something stupid or crazy that would generate him some—well, even more, street cred. That question remained on the blonde's mind for the longest time, even after she parted ways with Milani and Tony for the night. But even without seeing the bassist, Tanya had been having a blast throughout the night thus far. When she strutted through the large double doors of Nikki's mansion, a rare smile took over her face when she saw a group of people throw their drinks at some poor, unsuspecting girl. Her sparkly cocktail dress had been completely soaked in some type of unidentifiable alcohol. And unsurprisingly, the chick's miserable cries and whines of despair at the fact of her dress being ruined completely put a smile on Tanya's face and almost made her crack up at how downtrodden the girl looked afterward.